


Cutie Mash

by Ringcaat



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Alternate memories, Background - Freeform, Cutie Mark Chronicles, Cutie Marks, Destiny, Foals, Gen, Identity Swap, Interviews, Magical Mystery Cure, Reporting, Science journal, alicorn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 14:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12037437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ringcaat/pseuds/Ringcaat
Summary: Cutie Mash: A Chronicle of Cutie Marks That Never WereHow exactly do Twilight's friends remember their false lives during the mix-ups of "Magical Mystery Cure?" How does Pinkie Pie remember becoming an apple farmer, Rarity a weatherpony, Rainbow Dash an animal keeper, Applejack a dressmaker, and Fluttershy a merrymaker? How do they think they got their cutie marks?Twilight didn't have time to ask them, but Carrot Top and Berry Punch did! Read the story of the Season 3 finale from the perspective of two background ponies who set out to record the Elemental keepers' false memories for posterity.





	Cutie Mash

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this story in the 36 hours following "Magical Mystery Cure," the Season 3 finale. Though many fans disliked this episode, it remains my favorite. However, my passion probably made this story seem better than it was! I didn't like it much when I reread it later, but I do think it was an interesting idea worth exploring. See also my aborted commentary vehicle story "Frames of Folly," inspired by "Celestia's Ballad" in the same episode.

**Cutie Mash**

**A Chronicle of Cutie Marks That Never Were**

 

Rain cut against the canvas roof of Horte Cuisine as Carrot Top huddled close against her table with Berry Punch. It was a cruel storm, wind-tossed and riddled with the occasional hailstone. Moreover, Berry's outstretched leg bore a horrific treasure.

“It's a _snowflake!_ ”

“You're kidding!” said Carrot Top. “A snowflake, in Threshing?”

“You're looking at it.”

“But it's the middle of summer!”

Berry Punch shrugged and sucked up the snowflake from her hoof. “You know why, right?”

Carrot Top gazed out from the bistro mournfully. Ponies outside were caught in the rain, bickering with each other. She didn't know what they were fighting about, but she empathized with them. Something was very wrong, and if she hadn't had her weekly meal with her close friend Berry Punch to look forward to, she might have felt like snapping at somepony, too.

“It's Rarity,” said Berry. “She's gone haywire! Rainbow Dash abandoned the weather team and Rarity thinks it's her job now.”

Carrot Top leaned across the table until she and her companion were nearly face to face. “She thinks _what?_ ”

“She thinks she's the weather captain! She thinks she always _has_ been! And her cutie mark―it's Rainbow Dash's mark! Cloud and lightning bolt!”

Now Carrot's appetizer threatened to resurface. “She... she has Rainbow's _mark?_ Do you think she went Cupcakes on her?!”

“No, silly, I mean it's replaced her own mark! But her coat's still white, so―you know, I wish ponies would let that old campfire story rest. It's not fair to Pinkie.”

“Wasn't it Pinkie who told it in the first place?”

Berry wrinkled up her nose and smiled off to the side in her inimical way. “Could be. But in any case. How is this even possible, Carrot? Don't they teach us that cutie marks _can't_ be changed?”

A shock of thunder shook the ground and lasted a good five seconds. Someone at the next table lost a menu to the wind. Carrot Top planted a hoof on her stack of napkins.

“I think it's that your _true_ cutie mark can't be changed. You can't make it come before its time, but you can get false ones to show up. Maybe this is just a false mark! In which case, Rarity is still her true self on the inside.”

“Well, thank grapes for that! She's a lousy weathermare.” Berry swigged her water and called for the waiter. “Can we get some hard cider here? We've been waiting on our entrée half an hour.”

“Terribly sorry, mademoiselle,” said the slightly nervous waiter. “We are experiencing a few delays due to the weather. But be assured, your orders are very much in the queue. As to cider, I am sorry. We did not get our shipment of fresh apples this morning from our regular supplier. Could I interest you in a Beaujolais?”

“Does Prince Blueblood own a mirror? Yes, I'll take it,” answered an annoyed Berry Punch. “Who's your apple supplier? Sweet Apple Acres?”

The waiter bowed in assent.

“I wonder what's gone wrong on the farm,” mused Berry Punch as the waiter trotted off.

Carrot Top remembered something odd. “Do you know who I saw this morning?” she murmured across the table. “Applejack... at the Carousel Boutique!”

Berry was silent at first. “...Doing what?”

“Fiddling around with fabric! Using a sewing machine. Draping things on clotheshorses! She didn't seem very good at it, either.”

“But... but why? Did you ask?”

“It wasn't my business!”

“Was Rarity there?” asked Berry.

“I didn't see her. Do you suppose Applejack was filling in for her?”

“You'd think Rarity's sister would do a better job. Or their friend Fluttershy.”

“Or anypony, really,” quipped Carrot Top.

Berry Punch snickered. “Well, something's going on, that's for sure. But as for Fluttershy, isn't that her over there?”

Both mares craned their necks to see around the corner of the restaurant. That was Fluttershy, all right, mane drenched in the rain, doing what looked like... magic tricks? If that's what it was, nopony seemed to be falling for them.

“Wow,” said Carrot Top.

“Yeah,” said Berry Punch. “I've seen some flat acts, but _that's_ a flat act.”

Carrot Top froze, eyes wide. “Her cutie mark. Look at her cutie mark.”

Berry blinked, scratching her head. “Wasn't it a bunch of butterflies before?”

“Yes. It was. Those balloons belong to Pinkie Pie!”

“Huh. So much for the Cupcakes theory. But come to think of it, it does look like she's trying to cheer them up. And that's what Pinkie's good at!”

They returned to their table. The napkins had blown away. “So,” continued Berry Punch, “what I'm taking from this is that our beloved Elements of Harmony, the six ponies Princess Celestia threw that shebang for back after Discord wrecked Ponyville, have gotten their cutie marks all swapped up.”

Carrot Top nodded. “It looks that way. Do you think Twilight could have done it?”

“Possible! I smell magic, anyway. But you know, the real way to know is to visit Sweet Apple Acres and see what's up there ourselves.” Berry sipped her water, eyes closed.

“You just want an excuse to get some cider!” accused Carrot Top.

“Well, so what if I do?” retorted Berry, beaming as the waiter returned with their Beaujolais. “We can make a business trip out of it. I buy my cider, and we see who's working the farm. If nothing else, we can interview the whole lot of them and let Celestia work it out!”

Carrot Top smiled faintly as a lightning bolt singed the edge of the canvas. “Well, if my day off is spoiled anyway, I suppose we may as well make ourselves useful.”

“That's the spirit!” said Berry Punch, swirling her glass. “But we'll finish our lunch first, of course.”

“Of course!” agreed Carrot Top. She wanted a full stomach for the job ahead.

 

* * *

 

 

Big Macintosh's head emerged from the farmhouse. His eyes looked wild and overworked; his mane was frayed. “Eeeeyup?” he said expectantly.

Carrot Top stepped forward. “Mister Macintosh? My friend and I were wondering whether... everything's all right on the farm.”

The draftpony looked confused. His jaw set tightly. “Nnnnope,” he conceded.

“Yeah, I could tell,” said Berry Punch, looking around. “The path's a mess, half the trees have no leaves, there's good apples lying everywhere, and I think I saw a wagon lying upside-down with a ladder on it! Now talk. Who's behind it?”

Big Mac looked hesitant, but his little sister leaped up from behind him, her face mad. “Pinkie! It's Pinkie Pie! She's taken over!” shrieked Apple Bloom. “She took Applejack away and stole her cutie mark, and now she's messin' up _everything!!_ ”

Carrot and Berry exchanged a look. “And you aren't stopping her?”

“Nnnnope. Can't.”

“You can't?”

Apple Bloom glared fiercely at them. “Have _you_ ever tried stoppin' Pinkie when she puts her mind to something? We tried locking her in the barn, but she just tapped me on the shoulder from behind as I was fastenin' up the lock!! Said she thought the hinges could use oilin.”

“Do you mind if we interview her?” asked Carrot Top. “It could be important for solving this mystery.”

“And while you're at it,” added Berry Punch, “could we pick up two gallons of your hard Winesap cider? Something tells me Pinkie isn't exactly keeping the wagons running on time.”

Big Macintosh gave them a pair of blinks before heading off to pick up the order. While Berry Punch tried out the merchandise, Carrot Top ventured out in search of the former party pony, readying her clipboard.

 

* * *

 

 

“o/` I've got so many chores to do, it's no fun being meee,” sang Pinkie, hauling a big cart loaded with caged chickens.

“Oh, no?” inquired Carrot Top. “Then why do you do them?”

Pinkie looked back in sharp surprise, several of the chickens somehow escaping as a result. “Well...” she stumbled. “Well... It has to be my destiny.” She pointed at the three apples on her rear. “o/` 'Cause it's what my cutie mark is telling me.”

“Pinkie? This may seem like a strange thing for me to say... but... that isn't what your cutie mark was the last time I saw you.”

Pinkie sat down, puzzled. “It wasn't?”

“Or the time before that. Or _ever_ , for that matter.”

Pinkie scratched her head while the chickens opened the doors to their cages and danced around behind her. “It wasn't?!?”

Carrot Top shook her head. “No. It used to be three balloons! You really don't remember?”

Pinkie just looked confused. “That can't be right! This was _always_ my cutie mark!”

“Was it?” asked Carrot Top shrewdly. “Well, then... since you're not getting much done anyway, would you mind telling me about how you got it?”

Pinkie Pie looked at the chickens running wild. The cart was rolling down a hill and the cages were scattered all over the grass. She sighed and slumped. “I suppose. What've I got to lose?”

Carrot Top planted her clipboard on a stump and took up a quill in her teeth. “Whenever you're ready.”

 

* * *

 

Berry Punch and Carrot Top met back at the latter's home many hours later. It had been a long day full of reluctant interviews, awkward encounters, and strange, disturbing situations. They shook off the complimentary droopy scarecrow hats Applejack had given them and got down to business. “So what have we got here?” asked Berry. “Are there patterns? Is there an underlying story?”

“I think the real question is, is it enough to give to Celestia?” said Carrot Top.

“Celestia, nothing,” said Berry Punch with a little hic. “We'll give it to Twilight Sparkle. She likes reading, anyway, and as far as I can tell, she's still normal. Well, except for lying on her bed and singing all day, but let's face facts. In this town, that's not so strange.” Berry took a generous swig of her Winesap.

“Right,” said Carrot Top. “Let's see what we've got to give Twilight...”

 

* * *

 

 

**Pinkie Pie Remembers.**

It was a dull life, but you can't imagine how I miss it! When I was farming rocks, at least I had somepony to tell me what to do. My parents set the schedule, but more than that, we were following tradition! I'd make some silly complaint, something like, "But _why_ do we have to move the rocks from field to field to field at the end of every single season? I mean I know it's because the sun is going along a different part of the sky, but if we can get used to it, can't the _rocks_? I mean, if rocks aren't good at getting used to things, what _are_ they good at?" But my father would just say, "Pinkamena... this is how we've always done it. This is how rocks are farmed, like it or not, and it's how they turn out best." He'd say it wasn't really his choice at all!

But then one day, when I was alone turning rocks in the south field, it all came crashing down. I mean, part of it _literally_ came crashing down! That part was a big old apple tree. A giant colorful explosion in the sky knocked it down, and it almost crushed me into flagstone! But I got out of the way just in time, and then it was right in my way, and I had to spend a whole hour breaking up branches and hauling them away!

And do you know what? It was the most fun I could remember ever having! Just crushing and breaking and smashing and rolling and tipping over that rotten old tree until it was all gone. I'd never gotten to just cut free and be me with anything before, you know? To throw my weight around, without having to worry about what kind of crazy damage I might do. And when I finally stopped splintering the apple tree... I looked at my flank and I saw them! Apples! Three apples. That was when I knew I was doing the right thing.

I moved out as soon as I could and got a job on the local apple farm! But no matter how much I tried... it was never the same again. I guess maybe I was cut out for destroying apples, not farming them! But who'll pay for an apple that isn't there because it never grew? Not Bonbon, that's for sure! I was the worst farmhoof Sweet Apple Acres ever had, but eventually, after Applejack's parents moved away back to their Trottingham farm, and Applejack herself moved out a few years later... I finally wound up running the show.

And now? I don't have _anyone_ to tell me what to do. I wish I did! Big Mac and Apple Bloom don't talk to me much--I think they don't like me. Do they blame me for driving out their sister? I didn't drive her out! ...Did I? Or is it just that I ruined the farm? Maybe that's it. That'd do it, probably. As for Granny Smith, she just mumbles a lot about how things aren't right and how she misses the old days.

I can't blame her. Today, I lost my very last leaf. My last tree lost its last leaf, and now I don't know what to do!! Apples don't grow on trees without leaves, do they? They DON'T!! There's never going to be apples on this apple farm again, and I don't even know how I can keep calling it an apple farm! But if I don't call it that, what can I call it? Even the grapes are all shriveled and gone. I guess I could call it a worm farm, but even I wouldn't want to eat a _worm_ pie! Talk about baked bads. When that last leaf fell this morning, it made me think of that old apple tree, and how satisfying it was when it was finally all gone. But now? Now my _apples_ are all gone, and it just makes me sick!

I'll tell you how it feels. It feels like my very last hopes just made like trees and left.

Leaved, I mean.

Leavesed?

 

* * *

 

**Rarity Remembers.**

 

“Nice,” she said. I'd slaved for ages over those cuisine-themed costumes, and now the best my teacher could manage was the most pedestrian of four-letter adjectives! Oh, it may seem piddling now, but to my young heart, it was a crushing blow. I'd done my very best as the costume designer for our school play, and now it was to open tomorrow and my _awful_ creations would be on display for an entire hour! “Nice” is teacher-language for “awful,” as I'm sure you know.

I was sleepless that night. I just couldn't stand it! The more my thoughts dwelt on those costumes, the more puerile they seemed. And I was completely out of ideas! I was out pacing the hills, hoping for _some_ sort of last-minute inspiration, thinking that at this point I'd rather the play not even happen at _all_... when a bolt struck from the blue. Literally! A polychromatic bolt from the clear blue sky! It was shocking in its beauty and clarity―it opened my eyes, and now I knew what I had to do.

The sky was clear, but there were clouds over Dunlop in the west. I cantered until dawn to reach them, and then taught myself to wield them! Now, clouds are horribly messy things, and slippery like eels, but I struggled to push them through the sky until finally they were directly over my school. We didn't have any local weather pegasi in those days, you understand, so there was nopony to fix things when I opened the floodgates, so to speak.

It rained all day and all evening! And whenever anypony tried to shoo the clouds off, I just covertly nudged them back. No one suspected me, since they knew how utterly excited I'd been for the school play. In the end, it was canceled entirely! It was the last day of school, so there was no rescheduling things.

Everypony was so very disappointed... and while I admit I was secretly relieved, I found myself mortified by the very fact of their disappointment. What had I done? When I happened to glance back and see... this... on my flank... well, darling, there's really nothing quite as horrifying as the feeling of getting one's cutie mark for doing something one knows to have been wrong. It's true I've only had the feeling once, but believe me, that's more than enough to make me an authority.

I never told anypony what I'd done―not for a long, long time. My parents congratulated me on my mark, and I laughed and said it was for skilled manipulation of rain and rainbows. Of course, rainbows are far beyond me. If there's one talent I truly do have with clouds, it's the sheer power my magic exerts over them―when I'm involved, no other weather pony stands a chance of wresting away control. And that, after all, is the _true_ message of my cutie mark.

With power like mine, it would be a crime to leave the clouds in anypony else's hooves. But if only I could manage to learn finesse! Day after day, I try bending the weather to my will, and instead find it _using_ my will to its own ends, whatever those may be. Yet I can't give up. I simply can't! The clouds are practically begging me to command them, and who would I be to refuse? I only pray that someday, I will be worthy as their commander... and that I can begin to atone for all the broken hearts of that canceled school play, all those water-logged years ago.

 

* * *

 

 

**Rainbow Dash Remembers.**

 

It was all for Fluttershy. You know, I'm a sucker for the underdog, and there wasn't _anyone_ in Cloudsdale more underdoggy than her. You'd think it'd be enough for everyone that she could barely fly, but no―they had to _tease_ her about it constantly! I couldn't take it anymore―one day, I just snapped! I told off two of the worst bullies, and they challenged me to a race―how could I say no? I was gonna show them for calling _me_ Rainbow Crash!

I didn't even notice when we knocked Fluttershy right off her cloud as we whizzed past. I was too caught up in winning! Dumbbell wiped out early, but Hoops flankbumped me on his way past, and I wasn't gonna let him get away with that. I put everything I had into getting past him. Everything! When I whipped past him, I had so much speed I couldn't even control myself anymore! It was like nothing else―the air built up in front of me, and when I broke through, there was this huge explosion like out of an old mare's tale―a sonic rainboom! It filled the sky!

I didn't have long to take it in, though. I was going too fast, and crashed! Luckily, I was pretty tough even then, and I hit some bushes so it wasn't that bad. But I did sprain my wing, so there was no going back for a while. Besides, that's when I saw something more important―Fluttershy, desperately trying to calm down a whole herd of animals! Butterflies, bunnies, beavers, bees―you name it! She was so sad for them, and when she described what had scared them, I knew it was _my_ sonic rainboom! I'd tried to protect Fluttershy's honor, and instead, I'd knocked her to the ground and sent all these innocent animals into a panic!

There was only one chivalrous thing to do. I told Fluttershy that _I'd_ take care of it. If the animals were calm and happy before, then they could be calm and happy again, and I swore that I'd make it happen, no matter _how_ long it took. The moment I made that oath... I saw sparks at the edge of my vision, and there was my cutie mark, plain as day―three pink little butterflies! I knew then that I'd done the right thing.

But the thing is? I thought I'd be back in Cloudsdale by the time my wing healed. I figured within a week I'd be back to rocking the courses, wowing the teachers, and keeping the likes of Fluttershy safe. And my wing _did_ heal. But the animals? No matter what I tried, I just couldn't get them to quiet down! It was a disaster―somehow I'd ruined the whole local ecology! Still, I'd sworn to fix things, and I wasn't going to give up _that_ easily.

That was... that was thirteen years ago. And in a way, I'm _still_ working on getting those poor animals to calm down. I know, I know, it sounds horrible. But Rainbow Dash isn't a quitter. I may be a joke and a failure... but I'm not a quitter. Hold on―how did that wallaroo get free!? Stop! _Come back!!_

 

* * *

 

**Applejack Remembers.**

 

I reckon it happens to every kid... that moment when what you've got just isn't enough, and you're _bound_ t'head out lookin' for more. I was aimin' to learn a thing or two from my Aunt and Uncle Orange, way out in Manehattan, but more t'the point, I just wanted out o' town for a spell. I couldn't rightly spend my _whole life_ on the farm, could I? I may not know much, but ah do know that a life's fer livin'.

Can't say things went too well at first in Manehattan. My kinfolk were nice enough, but land sakes, were they biggety! Couldn't abide by the way I talk, for starters. They got me a tutor, did up my hair, and gave me at least two baths a day for the first week, ah kid you not. But to my credit ah caught on quick, and it warn't long before I was decently presentable. My folks took me to dinner parties, soirees, lectures... and I can't say there weren't no perks. Ah still miss them baked artichoke _hors d'oeuvres_. But the food came in small portions and the company didn't feel real, and on top of it all they thought _I_ was the uncultured one. Them bigshots didn't even know what a rooster was.

Well, I'd had enough of it all and I was fixin' to head home one morning. Didn't tell a soul. I was already on the road back to Ponyville when BLAM!! My ears were ringing, ah had rainbows in my eyes, and I was tumblin' backward in a steeple crusher of a windstorm. By the time it cleared out and ah got to my hooves, I knew I weren't meant to head homeward just yet. That freak storm had been a sign if anythin' ever was.

And it's a good thing I stayed, too, or ah wouldn't've been there when Aunt Orange took me to a fashion show the very next day! It was at the Berrymore, one of the biggest and fanciest theaters in all Equestria. And I was _entranced!_ All those beautiful fillies and colts in all those _fantastic_ outfits! The way they gleamed, an' glittered, and strutted, and posed... it just never ended. Ah'd never taken much to art before, but this was different. This was _ponies_ , not just bein' themselves, but bein' greater than themselves! A painting's just a canvas with colors, but a beautiful pony, all gussied up? I knew then and there that was what _real_ art was all about. And the three diamonds I spied on my flank that night came as no surprise at all.

I didn't linger long in Manehattan, now that I'd seen what I'd been meant t'see. Instead, I moved to Ponyville proper and set about assemblin' fashions so as I could recreate my _own_ dreams of what a pony could look like. But I learned something, over the years. Ah learned that there's a big difference between _appreciating_ beauty, and _making_ beauty. A big difference. I would've thought the art would've come to me over time, but heck if it ain't the opposite. The more I try, the further I feel from the dream that's drivin' me. Ah cain't sew worth a lick, and my family begs me to come home―but ah _can't!!_ If I don't create these visions in my head, who will? I can't just let 'em die―that'd be sadder than a little foal who never gets the chance to live. I couldn't do that to anyone, least of all my own visions!

I mean, there's only so many wrong ways you can sew up a dress, right? I'm _sure_ to stumble on the right way sooner or later. ...Ain't I?

 

* * *

 

**Fluttershy Remembers.**

Believe me... I know what it's like to be sad. My mother tried to protect me, but whenever I went to class back in Cloudsdale, it was like a nightmare. I could barely get any lift, and I was so scared of what the other ponies would think! And of course, when I didn't fly at all, they just thought less and less of me. I was one of the oldest fillies without a cutie mark, and the _very_ oldest who hadn't passed a basic flight skills exam. And there wasn't a day I left my home when the other children didn't make fun of me... or worse.

Thank heavens for Rainbow Dash! Aside from my mother, who was old and feeble, Rainbow was the only one who really cared about me. She knew I needed a helping hoof, and she tried her very best to keep me safe. Until one day―the most humiliating day of my life―she stood in between me and the bullies, and she fought for me―and for my honor.

It couldn't have ended there, of course. Rainbow Dash wouldn't let it, and neither would they. It had to be a race. So, later that day, I was standing on a cloud with a checkered flag, and I signaled for them to start―but I hardly had time to blink before they zoomed past and I lost my balance! The wind was too much―I fell off the cloud and my worst nightmare was coming true! I was falling off of Cloudsdale! I tried to flap my wings, but I was just too scared, and Rainbow Dash didn't even see me. I thought I was done for... but then a cloud like nothing I'd even seen before came around me and slowed my fall! It was made of tiny things―little creatures, I realized! And they lowered me safely to the ground. And as I looked around that wonderful place, I realized I'd never been so happy in my entire life.

But in the next moment, there was a terrible boom, and the animals went scurrying everywhere! As soon as they'd come, they were gone. I heard a sickening crash, and I ran to help―it was Rainbow Dash! She'd sprained her wing, but it wasn't any worse, thank goodness. We looked around and I told her how scared all the animals were, and she insisted on helping them to feel safe again. She was so nice about it I couldn't say no.

Instead, I went to check on one little bunny I saw huddled in a hollow tree. He was tiny and shaking, and I knew he must not have a mother to take care of him, like I did. So I coaxed him out, and I sat with him until it was dark. At last, I saw that he was happy... not scared anymore.

And that's when it happened. I felt a shimmering on my flank, and when I looked, I saw three balloons. My cutie mark, at last! I cried with joy. But I knew what balloons were―sometimes the ponies on the ground lose control of them, and they float through Cloudsdale. They represent fun and happiness. But animals don't use balloons―ground ponies do! So I knew what I had to do. I moved to Ponyville.

At first, the citizens of Ponyville were happy to have me around. They gave me a job at the bakery, and that's gone all right, I guess. They also laughed at my jokes―although now, in retrospect, I think they may have been laughing at the shy way I told the jokes instead of the jokes themselves. But after a while, they got tired of me. “You try too hard, Fluttershy,” they told me. “Why are you always trying to dance and sing? Don't you have anything better to do?”

But the truth is, I... I _didn't_ have anything better to do. I knew I was meant to bring happiness to ponies, and what could be more important than that? Yet for some reason, they wouldn't _let_ me make them happy. The more I tried, the more upset with me they got, and they even started fighting with each other! The first party I threw was a disaster. No one would listen to me when I tried to get them to play games, or dance... instead, they argued with each other, ate all the food, got bored, and left. I don't even try throwing parties anymore. I just try to slip a little joy into ponies' lives here and there where I can.

Somehow, I feel like I'm doing something wrong. But I can't turn away from my calling! I hate seeing ponies sad, or angry, or lonely. Someday, somewhere, I'm sure there must be _somepony_ I can get to laugh! ...Even if it's only at how terrible I am at getting anypony to laugh. It doesn't matter to me. I'll take it.

 

* * *

 

 

“It looks good,” assessed Berry Punch. “There's a common thread to these tearjerkers, all right. Five ponies doing what they shouldn't be doing. They sort of realize it's wrong, but they keep on doing. As don't we all.” She emptied the last of her gallon cider jug with a mighty draft.

Carrot Top wrinkled her nose. “And then there's that sonic rainboom connecting them all. Well, I think the story is clear. We have to get these to Twilight. If this is a magical problem, she'll know what to do.”

They stepped out the door and heard a distant echo, as if the whole earth were whispering:

 

_From one to another, another to one:_

_A mark of one's destiny, singled out and fulfilled._

_From all of us together, together we are friends._

_With the marks of our destinies made one, there is magic without end._

 

This was followed by the evening sky being seared by numerous columns of solid white light, after which things fell ominously silent.

Carrot Top looked at Berry Punch.

“It's not raining anymore.”

“Nope. The sky's clear.”

“I don't see anyone arguing out there.”

“No, it seems pretty quiet.”

They stood out in the darkness for a while, sizing things up. Then there was a blare of magic and the sky lit up with a burning, roiling, six-pointed magenta star. Both mares dashed back inside Carrot Top's house and slammed the door.

 

* * *

 

“Morning, Berry.”

Carrot Top stood at the open fridge. It was a source of comfort to her these days. It was a lot fuller than in the days when Derpy had been her roommate, and it was stocked with the things she loved best. Most of them were carrot-related, and why shouldn't they be? She drew out a carafe of pulpy carrot juice and sat down heavily at the breakfast table.

“How long have you been up?” asked the bleary wine-colored mare, her mane a mess.

“Long enough.” Carrot Top slid a copy of the Ponyville Express across the table to her friend.

Berry Punch stared at the front page. “Well, *#@$%.”

“That's what I thought,” said Carrot Top.

“Coronated. She's getting coronated.”

“Ponyville's out a librarian.”

Berry Punch was silent for quite a while. Then she scraped her chair back against the floor. “Well, thanks for letting me stay the night. You got anything to drink around here besides carrot juice?”

 

* * *

 

Twilight Sparkle looked up from the last of the five scrolls laid before her. Her eyes looked moist and weary. She looked at the mares before her for quite a while before she could get any words out.

“Thank you for bringing these to me. Thank you for recording them. It means a lot to me.”

Her voice wasn't any different these days, Carrot Top noticed, except for the culture of it; Twilight spoke a little more carefully than when she'd been a Ponyville librarian.

“You're welcome, Your Highness,” said Carrot Top, bowing.

“Yeah, our pleasure,” added Berry Punch. “But listen. It took us four months to get this appointment. Think you could quench our curiosities? What're you gonna do with these?”

Twilight's sadness became more pronounced, as if it were made of several layers. “...I wish I had more time for academics. These accounts will be invaluable for cutie mark theorists.”

“Cutie mark theorists?” asked Carrot Top.

Twilight nodded. “There's a longstanding debate about to what extent our cutie marks determine our personalities. But experimentation is difficult, because there are so few ethical ways to alter a cutie mark, and none of them alter the true nature of the pony beneath. Or at least, it's believed they can't. I'm learning to question things I never would have questioned before.” A feathery wing at Twilight's side twitched before folding back into place.

“And you think these interviews from your friends with their cutie marks switched will help decide that debate?” asked Carrot Top.

Twilight didn't laugh, but the corners of her mouth made it look like she wanted to. “These kinds of debates are never really over,” she confided. “They just shift from one set of questions to another. But yes, these accounts go a long way toward revealing which parts of the personality remain intact and which are transformed.”

“So that's it?” asked Berry Punch. “You'll fork 'em over to some magical theory double-domes and see what they come up with?”

“Not entirely,” said Twilight, stretching out serenely. “First, I intend to share them with my friends. We'll all have a very serious discussion about our feelings during that period, and if they like, we'll discuss what these stories imply about their personalities and their dreams. Only then, and only _if_ they grant their permission, will I publish these accounts in the relevant journals. Properly credited, of course.”

“Swell!” said Berry. “Well, I wish you luck with those talks. Not sure I'd want to be in the room for that.”

“Me either,” added Carrot Top. “I can just imagine. Applejack asking herself whether the only reason she has a nice, sane job is because she's devoid of artistic vision.... Pinkie Pie grappling with whether her nature is destructive at heart....”

“Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash trying to sort out just what their twisted relationship is,” added Berry Punch. “And Rarity wondering whether her special talent is all about covering up her own insecurities.”

Twilight trembled for a moment and then sat up primly, her eyes motionless. “I fear that any of us might face similar questions under similar circumstances.”

“No doubt, Your Highness,” said Berry Punch, heading for the door. “Just saying... it should be fun. Tell you what―I'll send you a bottle of wine. No charge.”

Twilight smiled slightly. “Thank you, Berry Punch. Good day.”

Carrot Top offered an apologetic smile, bowed again, and slipped out after.

 

* * *

 

“Well, that was interesting,” said Carrot Top as they made their way back to the train station.

“Aahh, I was hoping for something juicier,” Berry Punch replied. “Oh, well! Never thought _I'd_ be published in a science journal. Say, so long as we're in Canterlot, want to see the sights? We could spend the night and head back in the morning. I haven't been here in years.”

“Suits me!” said Carrot Top. They changed course for the merchant district.

After taking in the city for a while in the noonday sun, Carrot Top decided to ask a playful question. “Berry?”

“Hmm?”

“If our cutie marks ever got swapped... we'd notice, right?”

Berry stopped in her tracks and laughed, a sharp guffaw that Carrot Top always loved. “Are you kidding? Orange on purple and purple on yellow? Yeah, I think we'd figure it out.”

Carrot Top smiled. “Well, Rarity had a white cloud on her white coat, didn't she? And if anyone would pick up on that sort of thing, it's Rarity.”

Berry Punch had to think about that for a bit before snickering. “Well, I guess the moral is we've all got a profound propensity for fooling ourselves.”

“That seems a little grim,” said Carrot Top.

“Hey, it's not so bad!” replied Berry, heading for a knick-knack stand. “If we couldn't fool ourselves into thinking we need things, how could we do any shopping? I'm gonna get a plaster model of Twilight's new palace!”

Carrot Top sighed. “If I ever start obsessing over something that's clearly not me, please knock some sense into me.”

“Hey, who am I to say what's you and what's not? Just your best friend. Doesn't mean you couldn't surprise me.”

That... was true. “I have to admit, you have a point!”

“Not the first time, I hope,” said Berry Punch.

So Carrot Top's future sanity was up to her to diagnose after all. Ah, well. At least her stomach wasn't likely to betray her. For some ponies, things were simple.

She smiled and headed over to the carrot stand.

 

 


End file.
